


Momentum of Desire (Reader POV)

by SaenaLife



Series: Momentum of Desire [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fully Clothed, Heavy Make-out, Reader Insert, Slightly dom!Dean, a little bit of a number of kinks, exhibition/voyeur, hand-on-throat, outdoor, semi-public
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 11:42:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4665258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaenaLife/pseuds/SaenaLife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a man like that walks into a bar, you take notice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Momentum of Desire (Reader POV)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own the character of Dean Winchester or anything in the Supernatural canon. Everything else is mine.

**********

You saw him when he walked in and for a minute, you couldn't take your eyes off of him. It wasn't that he was gorgeous (although he was - disconcertingly so). Handsome men had never paid much attention to you, so you generally didn't pay much attention to them, beyond a glance or two. No, with this guy, what drew your gaze was the way he moved through the crowded bar, his face preoccupied and maybe a little angry, eyes scanning the people around him without really seeing them. He reminded you of your Marine brother and you wondered if he'd just come off an active tour of duty. He had the look of someone ready for danger to pop up at any moment.

Oblivious to the conversation that flowed around you while your friends celebrated their recent engagement, you followed his every move as he made a beeline for the one empty seat, halfway down the bar from you. It amused you to see the crush of people part in front of him, most of them without even realizing they were doing it, responding unconsciously to the subtle air of danger that surrounded him. He held up two fingers to the bartender, leaning over the scarred wood surface in an attempt to make himself heard over the music. It must have worked, because thirty seconds later, he was downing the first shot before the second one was done pouring, setting the glass down with a sharp rap you heard faintly over the din. He didn't look around, just sat there, fingers curled loosely around the second shot, eyes turned inward, contemplating something unpleasant only he could see.

An outburst of high-pitched, raucous laughter broke through your focus and you glanced at the door to see a group of eight or ten women stream into the bar, all silky hair and sleek willowy limbs. They were talking and giggling animatedly amongst themselves, apparently unaware of anyone else, but exuding that entitled confidence that said they knew every head in the bar had just turned their way. It looked like a bachelorette party made up exclusively of underwear models. With an inward sigh, you glanced over at the mystery man to see that he was no more immune to the distraction than anyone else in the room. His face was expressionless, but his eyes followed the group as they settled into a large booth hastily vacated by a bunch of frat boys with adoring looks on their faces.

 _Oh well_ , you thought to yourself. It wasn't like a guy like that was ever going to look your way, even without the sudden influx of beautiful women. Despite that, you couldn't resist another quick survey of the handsome stranger, eyes tracing the strong jaw that carried at least a day's worth of stubble, the broad shoulders under the leather jacket, and just the quickest glimpse through the crowd at what looked to be a very fine ass.

'Hello? Y/N? Anyone home?” Fingers snapped in front of your face and you startled, swiveling your head to meet the sparkling eyes and knowing grin of your best friend Tess. “Why don't you go talk to him? It looks like he's on his own. For the moment,” she added, nodding toward the table in the corner where more than one of the newcomers were sending interested glances at the man sitting alone at the bar.

“Nah.” You shook your head with a rueful smile. “Pretty sure I'm not his type. Besides, I'm here to celebrate you two getting engaged,” gesturing in her fiance Nate's direction, “not to get shot down in front of the cast of America's Top Model.”

She pulled a stern face. “I wish you wouldn't put yourself down that way. You're so amazing! He'd be lucky to have you.”

You shrugged amiably. “I wasn't really putting myself down. I know I'm amazing,” you said with a laugh. “I just don't expect someone like  _him_  to figure that out and I don't feel like trying to convince him. Guys that good-looking are usually more interested in surface appeal, of which there is plenty to choose from sitting in the corner booth. So what do you say we order another round and leave them to their mutual beauty?”

“Fine. I still think you should try to save him from that pack of lipgloss hyenas, but have it your way.” Tess turned, catching the eye of the bartender and gesturing for more drinks before pulling Nate out of his animated conversation for a quick and loving kiss. He smiled down at her, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her close to his side before going back to debating the relative merits of the latest NBA draft picks.

As happy as you were for Tess, you weren't really in the market for what she and Nate had. Your life was good as it was, without an ongoing relationship. You knew that she only wanted you to be as happy as she was, but sometimes you wished Tess would quit pestering you about your romantic life. Not that you didn't get lonely.  _Or horny_ , you thought with another peek at the intriguing loner. But honestly, you were far too busy trying to get your small business off the ground to put much energy into finding someone to spend time with, not to mention actually finding the time to spend with them. You had faith all that would come in its own time; there was no rush.

You put the stranger out of your mind as best you could, laughing and talking and enjoying the time with your friends. Every once in a while, you'd allow yourself a quick glance down the bar, casually running your eyes over him as you looked around the room, subtle enough that not even Tess noticed your continued interest.

The third time you scanned the crowd, you could have sworn he was looking at you. That seemed improbable, so you let your gaze slide past him without pausing, quickly enough that you could tell yourself that you had been mistaken.

Next time you looked, your eyes met for split second and you felt a jolt of adrenaline and something else run through your bloodstream. It had to be a coincidence, though, a momentary visual entanglement that didn't, that  _couldn't_  mean anything. Guys like that did not stare at you and you weren't sure how you would react if they did.

It was a while before you worked up the courage to look at him again and when you did, your stomach dropped a little with disappointment to see one of the tall, lovely women from the the corner table standing close to him, whispering in his ear. You couldn't tear your eyes away as she ran one hand up his arm and leaned in to press her lips to his. Swamped with sudden unreasonable jealousy, you swiveled away, tossing back what was left of your drink and signaling for another. Focusing on the fresh glass, you completely missed the way he pulled back from her, saying a few quiet words that made her face turn red as she flounced angrily away.

In fact, you didn't look his way again, not wanting to be confronted with the sight of them making out. You hadn't really expected anything from him, but still it was unexpectedly disagreeable to see him choose someone else. No matter how rational and realistic you tried to be, apparently there was still some small scrap of traitorous hope in your heart, hope that you wouldn't have to convince him how amazing you were, that he would see it for himself. You had to shake your head in disbelief at your own ridiculous fantasies.

Although at first it took a little effort, you managed to get back into the spirit of celebrating Tess and Nate, toasting their engagement, challenging Nate to a round of darts (where you trounced him mercilessly), and generally having a great time. Gradually, the Tuesday night crowd dwindled away. Not that you noticed; you and Tess had obsessively (and a little drunkenly) been talking wedding venues, music lists, and bridesmaid dresses for some time when Nate finally interrupted your discussion, ready to call it a night.

Pointing a finger at Tess, you declared, “I'm not done fighting for red bridesmaid dresses. You know red's my color!” Hopping off the bar stool, you were a little surprised at the way you had to put a hand on the bar to keep from swaying before you pulled Tess in for a hug goodnight, then turned and gave Nate the same treatment. “I'm so happy for you both! I love you guys!” You watched them head out the door, a little teary eyed at how perfect they seemed together.

Turning back to gather up your purse and coat, you were stunned to see the man from earlier was still sitting at the bar, alone, the leggy model nowhere in sight. And this time, there was no mistaking the fact that his eyes were on you, one hand holding a shot that he didn't take. He just sat there, face outlined in the red neon of beer signs, pinning you with his stare.

It might have been the multiple whiskey sodas you'd had that gave you the courage to meet his eyes. Or it might have been that you were tired of hiding away, pretending you didn't want what you didn't think you could have. Either way, you just looked back, as bold as you'd ever been in your life, eyes steady and face impassive, waiting to see what he would decide to do.

He raised the glass, never breaking eye contact except for the brief moment when he quickly downed the shot before sliding off the stool. Without looking away from you, he reached into his pocket and dropped a couple of folded bills on the bar next to the empty glass, already stepping in your direction.

Your heart began to race as you watched him stride toward you, but you didn't let your gaze falter and you angled your body to face him when he rounded the corner of the bar. He came to a stop close to you, well within what would normally be your personal space boundary with a man you didn't know. It didn't matter; all you could think about was that he was close enough to smell his woodsy aftershave and the leather of his jacket; to see that he had stunning green eyes and a light scattering of freckles; to feel the warmth that radiated off of him. For the first time in your life, you felt your knees go weak at the simple nearness of a man.

It must have shown in your face, because there was a subtle change in his eyes, an awareness and a heat that grew in them as they traced your features, pausing for a long moment when they reached your parted lips. With an almost subliminal smile, he dragged his gaze back up to meet yours, extending a hand.

“Dean.” His voice was deep and warm and the sound of it brought an answering flush to your cheeks. When you slid your hand into his, the feel of his callused fingers on your skin sent a shock of desire tearing through your system.

“Y/N.” You barely recognized the sound of your own voice; husky and a little breathless, it practically radiated sex. You might have gotten embarrassed except that Dean chose that moment to lean closer to you, still holding your hand, and you found yourself distracted by his mouth. How had you not noticed his mouth before?

You couldn't tear your eyes away from that full lower lip, transfixed by the sight as he swept his tongue over it before speaking. “Y/N, unless you tell me to stop, I'm gonna kiss you.”

Every nerve in your body snapped to attention at that and you felt yourself growing wet, nipples tightening against the lace of your bra. Locking your eyes with his, you decided to go for broke. “Not gonna tell you to stop.”

One side of his mouth quirked a little and you could see something like approval in his eyes as he drew in a slow breath, unhurriedly taking your face in both hands and leaning down toward you. A thousand half-formed thoughts flew through your mind in that last half second;  _This is crazy... he's really doing it... wish those girls were still here to see this..._

Then his lips were pressed to yours and the rest of the world faded away. His mouth was deliberate and undemanding at first, as if he were holding himself in check, waiting to see how you would respond. In spite of that, or maybe because of it, the kiss blew through whatever defenses you might still have had. Without even realizing it, your arms slipped around his waist, clutching at his jacket, dragging him against you as the kiss deepened.

He hummed a little, dropping one arm down to your back to pull you closer, his other hand sliding through your hair to cradle the back of your skull, shifting the angle so that your mouth met his more fully. The warm, firm pressure of his lips, the slide of his tongue against yours, even the faint fading fumes of the whiskey he'd just downed – you would never have been able to describe the perfect kiss until this moment. It was like finding the last piece to a puzzle you'd thought was already completed, unaware of what was missing. In sudden hungry abandon, you rocked your hips against his, nipping at his bottom lip with a low, eager sound.

The next sound you made was a sigh of disappointment when Dean pulled away a little, looking down at your flushed face with eyes gone dark and greedy. He ran one thumb over your jawline and your eyes drifted shut for a moment as you leaned your face into his hand, not even pretending that you didn't want more contact.

You opened them when he cleared his throat and shifted his body against yours, the movement making you conscious of his erection pressed between you. Meeting his gaze, you swayed into him, generating a friction that made you both catch your breath a little.

“Wanna get outta here?” The length of his body was crushed to yours and it was making it hard to form a coherent thought, but the answer to that one was obvious enough that you could manage at least one word.

“Please.”

You saw something flare in his eyes and he leaned down again, this time to speak low in your ear. “Won't be the last time you say that to me tonight.”

You shivered a little, hands fisting into the his jacket, and nodded. “You're probably right.”

With a small laugh, Dean released his hold on you and you reluctantly followed suit, grabbing your things as he took your hand and headed for the door. Once outside, he looked around at the empty street, brought up short by the dilemma of where to go and how to get there. Turning a chagrined smile on you, he said, “Think we're gonna have to call a cab. I'm in no condition to drive back to my motel an' I'm pretty sure you aren't either.”

The wind had picked up and you had to push the hair out of your face as you looked up at him, shaking your head. “No need for that. I live just a couple blocks that way,” you said with a wave in the general direction of your apartment.

“Let's go then!” Dean put one arm around your shoulders, pulling you against him as you began to walk down the deserted street together. The early spring night was too chilly for your light sweater, but you didn't want to stop long enough to put on your coat. Instead, you slung it through the strap of your purse and slid an arm around his waist under the jacket. You nestled into his warmth, enjoying the flurries of wind in your hair and breathing in the smell of rain that they carried. It felt like a storm was brewing, inside and out.

Even through the thick flannel layered over his t-shirt, you could feel the muscles of his torso shift and move under your hand as you walked. Giving in to the momentum of your desire, you began to smooth your palm across the broad planes of his body, fingers lightly tracing the ridges and hollows of his ribs. Wanting to feel skin and impatient with the barrier, you pushed both shirts up, sliding your hand down to explore the convergence of muscle and bone at his hip under the waistband of his jeans.

“You're killin' me!” Dean's quiet, guttural exclamation pulled your awareness back from your fingertips just as he drew up short, turning to face you and dragging you against him for another staggering kiss. You pushed both hands into his hair and held on tight as he backed you toward a darkened alleyway until you found yourself pressed up against the door of a car parked just inside the entrance.

Suddenly, there was a tiny anxious voice at the back of your brain whispering all the horror stories you'd ever heard about going off with strange men. Pulling back, you stared hard into Dean's eyes for a few seconds, trying to read his true intentions. As if he understood what you were thinking, he just looked back, face open and unguarded in the light from the streetlamp. Mostly what you saw was simple, honest lust, but there was something else, too. Dean hid it well, but you were too familiar with the feeling to mistake it for anything but loneliness. He waited patiently, not saying anything, but the look in his eyes was so clear to you that he might as well have shouted.

_Don't leave me alone tonight._

Reassured, you pressed against him, lifting your mouth to his. Dean pushed forward until everything narrowed down to the cold glass and steel against your back and the heated flesh of the man in front of you. With a last, almost sharp nip at your bottom lip, his mouth left yours and trailed kisses down your jawline to your neck, making you clutch at his shoulders as your pulse raced out of control. One large hand circled around from your back to knead your breast, tugging intermittently at your nipple until you arched into his hand with a loud moan.

Returning to devour your mouth, Dean slid one leg between yours and began to rock steadily against your core, the large muscles of his thigh providing the perfect ratio of cushion to force. Within moments, you gasped into his mouth and lurched against him, stunned at the impossibly imminent orgasm that was even now beginning that last steep ascent before hitting the crest of pleasure. Overwhelmed, you tore your mouth from Dean's, gasping and moaning, soft cries torn from your throat no matter how hard you tried to keep quiet. Clutching at his shirt, you buried your face in his shoulder and moved with him as his thrusts drove you higher.

Then he stopped. With an inarticulate sound of protest, you looked up to find him studying you. He brought one large hand up and set it just under your jawline, holding your face tilted up to him.

When he spoke, Dean's voice was hoarse, so deep you felt it resonate through your own chest where it was pressed up against his. “Wanna see your face when you come.”

Your eyes fluttered closed as a throb of heavy heat ran though your limbs. You tried to swallow in a suddenly dry mouth, feeling the slight pressure of his hand at your throat, and nodded as best you could.

“Good girl.” His words sent a shiver through you and before you could catch your breath, Dean had picked up exactly where he'd left off, pushing and sliding against you until you were incoherent, jaw resting in his hand, completely lost in the building rapture. He spoke again, breath ghosting over your face, still faintly tinged with whiskey.

“So fuckin' beautiful, Y/N! Wanna hear you shout my name when you come.” At his words, you moaned louder than before and there was an edge of desperation to it as your hips began to plunge against him faster and more forcefully. “That's it, sweetheart, ride it out.” A low keen escaped from your mouth. “Come for me, Y/N!”

At the command, your world exploded into white fire, your body in some distant place outside of the pleasure, mindlessly surging against Dean. The only thing clear amidst the tumult was your broken wail of his name.

As you slowly gathered your senses and your breath, Dean pressed a kiss to each of your closed eyes and then one to your lips, soft but with a generous dose of hunger to it, before releasing his light grasp of your throat and sliding his arms around you. He shifted, bumping your hip with the hard-on that was straining against the seam of his jeans, leaning down to rumble in your ear. “Damn, sweetheart, you are so fuckin' hot!” The sound of his voice and feel of his breath on your neck were enough to make you shudder a little, fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt. He noticed, bumping his cock into you again before continuing. “Y/N, if you come like that with all your clothes on, I can't wait to get you naked,” he paused, twisting and grinding his hips a little, “... see you come around my cock.”

Leaning up, you grazed your teeth lightly along the sensitive skin of his neck before teasing your breath across his ear with a throaty murmur. “Please.”

With a low, wolfish noise, Dean snaked one hand into your hair and crushed his mouth to yours, kissing you fiercely, insatiably, until you were breathless, your head starting to swim. Your need for oxygen finally outpaced your need for Dean's mouth and you had to break away, drawing in lungfuls of the spring night and trying to steady yourself.

You shivered as you once again became conscious of the chilly glass at your back. With a sideways glance down at the hood, you grinned up at Dean. “Whoever owns this thing would probably be pissed if he saw us like this.”

Dean glanced down and his eyes widened in surprise before looking back to you with a smile. “Not a problem. That's my car and I don't mind a bit.”

Interested, you turned a little to get a closer look at the sleek black shape framed by the dark red brick of the alley wall. A surprised chuckle flew from your lips, growing into a full fledged laugh as Dean looked at you bemusedly.

“What? It ain't that funny!”

Holding up one hand, you shook your head, struggling to stifle the merciless giggles. Finally catching your breath, you said, “No. That was pretty good, but you know what the really funny thing is?” Dean shook his head. With an amused smirk, you nodded your head back over your shoulder toward the wall.

“That's my building.”

 

**********

 

Read Dean's side of this story [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4743953)...

Read the continuation of this story (Reader POV) [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5974117)... (the Dean POV continuation is on its way)

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I'd love to hear what you think! 
> 
> Seriously, tell me all the things, good and bad.


End file.
